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not ready for this, pretend to fail everything so they put you back into primary.’ The thought of secondary school terrified me. The horror stories you’d hear – one kid at primary said, ‘One of the first years got their head flushed down the toilet just for looking at a Year 11 in the eye.’ I later found out this wasn’t true, but that still didn’t make me feel any more excited for the day ahead.

I sat there in my aubergine purple jumper, crisp white Fruit of the Loom polo shirt, and trousers that I promise were fashionable at the time – they were half trousers, half skirt. They were that tight they were marking every part of my body they touched, all set off nicely with my orange tan from a dance competition I’d attended two days prior.

A high-pitched electronic noise entered my consciousness. My polyphonic Mozart 40 ringtone was going off in the front-zip compartment of my McKenzie backpack. The backpack that was bigger than my entire torso so I could fit in all the essentials – which I would later learn I did not need. The words ‘MAMMA BEAR’ pixelated across the illuminated Nokia 3310 screen.

‘Hello. You OK, Mam? I only just left five minutes ago.’

‘Yes, I’m fine. God, can I not just ring ya to say I’m so excited for you? Ya will remember this day for the rest of your life. Nanny and Auntie Kirsty say good luck. I just wanted to check that you’ve definitely got everything you need for your first day at big school.’

‘It’s called secondary school, Mam, and yes.’

To be honest I didn’t even know what half the stuff was that was in my bag.

‘Have you got your scientific calculator?’ (This is misleading as you never ever use it in science.)

‘Yes, Mam. Can I go now? I’m really busy, you interrupted my game of Snake on my phone there. Bye, love you.’

‘Hang on, I’ll go through the list the school sent. I’ve got it in front of me. You check you have everything in your bag, OK? Compass … highlighters … multiple packs of ballpoint pens both black and blue … HB pencils …’

‘Yes, I’ve got all of them, Mam, along with the glittery gel pens you bought me, a bendy shatterproof ruler and a novelty eraser that’s shaped like a hot dog.’ (I really thought the hot dog rubber would score me some cool kid points.)

‘Brill, have a great day. I’ll make you your fave for tea: fish finger sandwich, beans and chips with loads of vinegar on for you. Bye sweetheart, love you.’

After the phone call and the promise of a smashing tea, I arrived at my new secondary school in Bishop Auckland. I was meeting my cousin Demi at the old metal gates. We heard the bell go off so we rushed inside, following the big posters with arrows on them. There we found all the first years huddled together in the assembly room, rounded up like cattle. We were given shiny new planners and a whole load of information that no one was listening to about fire safety.

‘I wonder whose form we will be put in? It’s so exciting,’ Demi whispered. With that, the headteacher started reeling off names and what room we would need to shuffle to. Luckily me and Demi were put in the same form class. I walked into 7TR, Miss Tyron’s room, and to my surprise everyone was smiling. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and kept reminding myself that everyone else was feeling as apprehensive about this new environment as me. I was pleased me and Demi were put into the same form class; to be fair we were both thick as thieves. I remember the first term in Year 7 we both didn’t get great grades and got in trouble for chatting at the back of the classroom a lot so we both decided to pretend parents’ evening wasn’t happening on the date that was in the newsletter. We came up with a plan. We both Tipp-Exed information about the evening on the newsletter. Technically, I wouldn’t class this as a lie, it’s just not giving away all of the facts.

Obviously my mam was slightly suspicious. ‘Why is this part blanked out, Scarlett?’

‘Because it was meant to be parents’ evening but it’s been cancelled for some reason.’

Now me and Demi both knew our parents would call each other. ‘Janine, it’s Betty. Do you know when parents’ evening is?’

‘It’s been cancelled, our Demi said it’s probably going to be rearranged again in a couple of weeks.’

I mean some would say that was deceitful but I would say it was genius. How we both didn’t end up working for MI5 I do not know.

I quite enjoyed the first term of school. I even had my first crush. Seamus he was called, I knew he was way out of my league as a lot of girls fancied him and he was in the sporty cool crew during PE but I could still fantasise about him and read his horoscope in my Mizz magazine (not creepy at all).

However, something changed after the first term. I came back after the week’s holiday (what we call up north ‘potato-picking week’) and the gaggle – what I called the group of popular girls – decided I was now the chosen one. The one who was going to be bullied. Now as I’ve mentioned, due to the bike accident I had only half of my two front teeth when I started school and the right one was black. This was enough to make me the brunt of all their jokes.

It lasted three years, just constant shit from these idiots.

‘Scarlett, who’s your favourite Disney character? Is it Goofy? Because that’s who you look like.’

‘Why are you so orange, Scarlett? Did your mam shag a carrot?’

‘Do you ever brush your teeth, Black Teeth?’

‘Errr, Scruffy Mouth, buy some mouthwash will you?’

‘Monobrow Moffatt sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G with

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